· This photo probably isn't as dramatic as what I actually saw when I walked out my door first thing this morning, but that usually conspicuous object sitting amidst a thick cloud of smog is Birmingham's Vulcan statue. Apparently the smoke from the forest fires in south Georgia and Florida is blowing all the way up to the B-hizzy, which explains why the whole city smells like a brush fire and I had to put on a painter's mask just to take Jenna out to poop. I don't like to condemn entire states all at once, but for letting your secondhand smoke blow all the way over here and ruin my morning, Georgia and Florida, you guys are a couple of assholes, all right?
· Speaking of which, I don't go seeking this stuff out (honest!), but in the course of my usual Web-surfing I've come across a few more mentions of Eric Dondero, last seen on this blog positioning himself as the ADD-afflicted Brutus to Ron Paul's Caesar. Today, f'rinstance, I found out that Dondero wrote his own Wikipedia page, a fact I learned from this Hit & Run thread in which he compared a commenter to Hitler and left four comments in a row at one point. On this Liberty Papers thread he leaves six comments in a row, among others, all in the service of calling people fascists for daring to oppose Rudy Giuliani's presidential bid, and he also openly states that while his big issues are legalized drugs and prostitution and the elimination of seat-belt laws, he thinks that warantless searches and wiretapping are a "non-issue."
What the . . . ? I think this kind of bizarre political doctrine deserves a name of its own, and I'm taking my opportunity right now: Dondero is a Bread-and-Circuses Neoconservative, someone who claims to be a libertarian but who will cheerlead every last intrusive, liberty-eroding, authoritarian impulse on the part of the Bush administration as long as he can smoke pot and not wear a seatbelt. See also Neal Boortz, Glenn Reynolds, Dennis Miller, et al. The sad thing is, I wouldn't have to come up with a name for them if there weren't so many of them.
· As long as I'm piling on ol' Eric, let me go ahead and also pile on Paul Wolfowitz. The guy scores a 160-something-thousand-dollar do-nothing job at the World Bank for his girlfriend -- hey, don't lie, you wouldn't touch Paul Wolfowitz's dick for anything under $160K either -- and the resulting controversy forces him to resign; now said girlfriend has dumped him. I'm sorry if this makes me a bad person, but I laughed so hard when I read that this morning that a few of my co-workers came into my cubicle to see what was going on. That arrogant prick deserves every embarrassment that's been dumped on him in the last few months and then some; my only regret is that this didn't happen a couple months earlier, so that Bush could've tapped an unemployed Wolfowitz for the newly created position of Iraq War
· On the subject of actual pimps, let us now (again) praise Bob Barker, who gave the commencement address at Drury University earlier this month, thus earning Drury the title of Most Awesome Commencement Address Ever. Yes, even beating out Jon Stewart's 2004 address to William & Mary, although Stewart might still have him beat on actual content. I don't know. I'm content to call it a draw.
· Britney Spears still just doesn't appear to have this undergarments thing all figured out yet. She goes on stage wearing a bra and nothing over it, then she goes out in public with a shirt but missing the bra. We've already inferred, of course, that her standard attire for religious observance is nothing above the waist at all. Dear Lord, can't somebody have a talk with this girl?
· I will say this for the Bush administration: They may be a bunch of dishonest, power-hungry Macchiavellis who do nothing but stretch the truth until it hangs to the ground, but some of them do look awfully good doing it.
And when you get that fearful, hung-over "Did we sleep together" call the next morning, you can simply say, "I have no recollection of that."
· Georgia won another national title in men's tennis yesterday. (Link via Westerdawg.) I won't bother telling you who won the women's title.
· And finally: Why, God, why?